Pro Patria Mori
by The World in Black and White
Summary: It is sweet and glorious to die for one's country. These are the words around which Crown Prince Harry of Hogwarts has been raised. Having reached the age of 15, an ancient tradition is once again put into play by the royal council. To gift the Prince with his own Harem. And that Harem is determined to protect him, if only he would stay OUT of danger. Warnings inside. SLASH


**Alright! Listen up cause I'll only do this once! Or twice. Or maybe three times... Oh, don't look at me like that!**

**Disclaimer: As a matter of fact, I _am_****blonde and british and I have blue eyes. But do I _look_ like a millionaire author? NO! **

**Warnings: Slash, M/M, Harem, femslash. May be more in later chapters.**

**Now... ONWARDS!**

* * *

**Prologue**

Hogwarts was a prosperous and magical land, separated into four kingdoms: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. It was a peaceful land, but that peace was destroyed by a man called Gellert Grindelwald.

He was a dark wizard and an even darker man. He wished to rule the lands, controlling its people with an iron fist. Hidden within the shadows he not only built an army but managed to pit each of the great lands against each other and soon a war broke out.

It was a gruelling decade. Brother fought brother, blood was shed and the once united kingdom began to self-destruct.

Finally, after many years, one soul rose up.

James Potter, son of the deceased King of Gryffindor, heir to the kingdom.

James was a boy of sixteen, being a mere nine years old when his family was killed by Grindelwald, swearing to avenge them.

And so it was with his legendary family sword that he rose up to confront the man known as the Dark Lord, and they duelled. Day and night magic and metal clashed within Grindelwald tower, and it is said that the battle was so fierce that the very earth itself shook.

After many a day and many a night James emerged from the rubble, victorious, Grindelwald slain, and the decade-long war ended.

The people of the Four Lands named James, and his young bride Lily Potter née Evans King and Queen of Hogwarts, and it was with a firm yet gentle hand that they ruled, returning light and life to the once dark and desolate land.

Two years later the kingdom rejoiced, for their Queen was known to be with child, an heir for the throne.

On the 31st of July, their child was born. A son and future king whom they named Harry.

It was a joyous and prosperous year throughout the kingdom, until darkness fell upon it once more…

"Lily! Take Harry and go! It's them. You have to run! I'll hold them off-"

Lily didn't stop as her husband's voice cut off, but tears streamed down her face as she clutched her babe to her chest and sprinted.

She ran to her son's room and slammed the door, locking it behind her. She ran over to the bookcase, preparing to open the secret passage and escape when the door blew open behind her and she spun to shield her baby from the splinters of wood with her own body.

"No! Not Harry, please not Harry! Take me instead. Just please not Harry!" she begged, throwing herself between her son and their attacker.

"Stand aside you silly girl. Stand aside now." A cruel voice demanded from within the dark shroud of the cloak.

"Not Harry! Please no, take me, kill me instead!"

The attacker raised their wand.

"No! No, no, no, no, no! Not my baby! Please have mercy, have mercy!'

"Avada Kedavra!"

The attacker's shrill voice cackled and the woman's scream died off, echoed by the wailings of the baby within the crib. The attacker stepped over the dead woman's body as they came closer to the crib. They looked over the bars and smiled, it wasn't quite evil nor was it gentle.

"Such a pity. Avada Kedavra!"

As the legend is told, it happened that the green light, reflected by the eyes of the child forevermore, was thrown back at its caster by the pure power of love that the Queen and King held for their Prince, and he was known throughout the kingdom as their saviour.

The Four Lands mourned the loss of their beloved King and Queen deeply, even as they rejoiced the defeat of the evil being who attacked them. But they had hope, for young Harry Potter, their prince, had survived with only a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

The attacker was never caught.

It was under the care of Royal Advisor Albus Dumbledore and those in the castle that the baby Harry grew to into first a beautiful child, then a strong teenager and finally an intelligent, powerful 15 year old young man, prepared to take the throne as soon as he reached his majority on his 17th birthday.

And the people hoped that he would be a great ruler, just like his parents.

(AN: Was going to end it here, but decided it was too short, so here's chapter one!)

**Chapter One: Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Mori**

"It is sweet and glorious to die for one's country." Harry read aloud from the Latin as he kneeled before his parents' graves, smiling sadly and bitterly at the words as he laid a bouquet of lilies and roses before standing slowly, and walking back up the path to his home, to the castle.

0-0-0

The two slaves stood in their respective cage, one with a face creased in kindness and the other scowling, brow furrowed and mouth turned down.

"Come now, Severus, you'll never get a master if you keep on glaring like that and frightening them away." Remus Lupin chastised from where he stood beside his old-time friend and companion, Severus Snape, who was currently staring down every passer-by.

"That is the point, Remus." He replied stiffly, not removing his gaze from a nervous looking gentleman.

"You must enjoy upsetting Trader Dursley." Remus noted dryly, rolling his eyes at the tone.

"It is what I live for." Severus sniped, sneering at a mother and toddler while Remus smiled kindly at them. "Are you trying to get a job as a babysitter?" he asked.

"It's a better job than a field worker or a stud." Remus replied simply, Severus nodding reluctantly in agreement even as he eyed the shackled slave beside Trader Dursley in pity. The man looked incredibly anxious, eyes darting back and forth.

Upon closer inspection, Severus realised that he was but a boy, barely nineteen if that. He had a strong jaw and dark hair, cropped military style close to his head, giving him a tough appearance. He wore no shirt, and on his torso one could see numerous scars from rough handling.

Both Severus and Remus leaned over to watch more closely as a stern looking woman approached Trader Dursley. They leaned even closer to hear her, but could only make out a Scottish accent.

She began gesturing with her hands, and they both blinked, leaning away, taken aback as they saw her point at them. Trader Dursley nodded eagerly, and she handed him some money which made his eyes gleam in his pudgy face.

Trader Dursley's son, Dudley, waddled over to them with the key to their cage in his hand, and he unlocked it before grabbing them by their chains and linking them to each other and the other boy, smiling in what he probably thought was a pleasant way but just made him look constipated.

The woman began leading them to a two-part carriage, and they took their seats in the back before she moved to the front.

"Remus Lupin." Remus introduced himself to the boy, smiling encouragingly as he eyed the hand outstretched towards him uncertainly.

"…Viktor Krum." He replied after a long pause, accepting the hand gingerly and shaking it softly before letting it fall.

"Severus Snape." Severus said curtly only after Remus nudged him in the ribs and Viktor turned to stare at him expectantly.

"Pleasure to meet you."

And if Vernon and Dudley Dursley awoke the next morning after a deep and thorough sleep to find themselves with nothing but the clothes upon their skin in the middle of nowhere with the royal crest drawn into the sand, unnoticed, then it is irrelevant.

0-0-0

"Are yeh sure?" Hagrid asked the family one last time, for once they did this there was no going back.

"Yes." the mother nodded, crying as the father just looked grim and saddened by the situation.

"What are their names, Mrs Weasley?" Hagrid held out a handkerchief for her to take.

"The eldest is William, then it's Charlie, the twins are Fred and George and our adopted son Cedric is older than the twins but younger than Charlie." Arthur answered as his wife just cried harder into the gratefully accepted white piece of cloth.

"Don't ya worry, ma'am, they're gonna be well safe in the castle. I promise yeh." Hagrid soothed, watching sadly as the sons their mother had just sold tried to console her, telling her that they had volunteered for it.

It broke his heart, Hagrid thought as he led the boys to the Thestral drawn carriage, that some families were so poor they had to sell their own children just to survive.

0-0-0

The woman, dressed all in pink and with a rather toad-like appearance, stood stiffly before the trader who had yet to notice her, much to the two slaves that she held by their chains to buy's amusement.

"Hem hem." She coughed pointedly, scowling indignantly as the woman, Augusta Longbottom, continued to not notice her.

A young man, around 16 years of age, noticed and walked over, an apologetic expression on his face.

"I'm so sorry, my grandmother's quite deaf." He explained hurriedly. "My name is Neville. Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes. I would like to purchase these two, if you please." She sniffed imperiously, glaring at the old woman's back.

"Yes, right." He chuckled softly. "What are their names? I'll get their papers."

"Hem hem." She turned to the elder of the two, almost identical men.

"Sirius, that's me, and Regulus, my younger brother, Black." Sirius said when the woman coughed pointedly at him, his younger brother nodding in confirmation.

"Grandmother?" Neville called loudly in the womans ear.

"What is it, Neville?" she asked in an irritated tone.

"This woman wishes to buy the Black brothers."

"This woman fishes to my mac others?"

"This woman wishes to buy the BLACK brothers."

"This woman wishes to find the fat ruggers?"

"This woman wishes to buy the BLACK BROTHERS."

"This woman wishes to fly the rack covers?"

"This woman wishes to BUY the BLACK BROTHERS."

"This woman wishes to buy the back shudders?"

"THIS WOMAN WISHES TO BUY THE BLACK BROTHERS!"

"Well why didn't you say so?"

0-0-0

A kind but stern looking woman stood in front of the two slaves, father and son, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"He's a… bit strong willed…" the slaver said nervously.

"That will be quite alright, thank you. And what about those two as well?" the woman nodded to two younger men who also stood side by side, and couldn't help but notice how both the son's eyes and theirs seemed to light up in relief.

"Um… you might not want to combine the three of them youngsters together… ma'am… you see… they're trouble makers when put together…" The slaver was sweating bullets at the thought.

"I think it will do quite nicely, in that case."

"But, but, but, but, but, but…" the slaver stammered even as he led the other two boys, also 16 years old, to the father-son duo.

"What are their names?" she interrupted his protests with a look.

"The man is Lucius Malfoy and this is his son Draco, and this other one is Blaise Zabini," he motioned to the olive-skinned, dark brown haired and indigo eyed boy, "while the other is Theodore Nott." He motioned to the tanned boy with rich brown eyes and sandy blond hair, both a stark comparison from the almost-albino complexions of the Malfoys, were it not for their silver-grey/blue eyes.

"Perfect. I'll take them." She nodded to herself resolutely, practically daring the man to argue.

"O-of course, miss…?"

"Evans. Petunia." She replied, already handing over the check with the royal crest stamped upon it and walking away.

"But, but, but, but, but, but…"

0-0-0

A benevolent old man, dressed in a bright purple robe with moons and stars and suns in horribly clashing colours stood, smiling beneath the white beard that reached his belt, his blue eyes twinkling at the fiercely glaring, strong and scarred slave inside the cage.

"What did you say his name was?" he asked the trader, easily ignoring the bared teeth and animalistic snarl.

"Fenrir Greyback, my lord, but I really don't think that-"

"I'll take him and the other two, thank you very much." He twinkled, interrupting the other man with a smile.

"O-okay…" he nodded uncertainly, almost fearfully unlocking the cage of a now inquisitive Alpha Werewolf. "Go and fetch Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange!" he called to a young lady over his shoulder.

"Yes, Mr Macnair!" she yelled, racing off at top speed. "Right away, Mr Macnair!'

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Macnair asked as he accepted the money and handed over the slaves.

"Oh yes." the old man winked. "He fits my requirements precisely. Goodness knows we need a little spirit in there. Someone to keep his highness in line, I should think. Other than his maids Misses Granger and Lovegood, that is." He laughed govially, practically skipping off with three sceptical and bemused slaves exchanging looks.

"Excuse me?" Fenrir finally ground out after they were situated across from the man in a carriage. "What did you mean by 'keep his highness in line'?"

"Oh, well exactly that, of course! His highness is highly intelligent, but he prefers to ignore his duties in favour of more frivolous things, saying 'I'm only young once and I'll be damned if I don't enjoy it'. He also sneaks into the towns more often than not to observe his people, unguarded might I add, at risk to his safety. So I thought it might be helpful to have someone other than the women in his life slap him upside the head and tell him to 'shut up, sit down and finish that damn homework'." He twinkled back at the shocked faces. "Anything else?"

They shook their heads mutely.

0-0-0

"How much this one?" Moody asked the slaver gruffly, jerking his head in the direction of a man with curly auburn hair, red eyes and pale skin.

"Tom Riddle? You can have him!" the slaver said dismissively, turning away after handing a pile of already signed papers and practically throwing the smirking slave at him, shuddering as it turned on him sadistically.

"Just keep him away from me!"

0-0-0

The slaves were gathered in the town, Hogsmeade; that was very close to the castle.

"Ah, Albus!" Minerva greeted as she led her group over to the others. "Are we the last to arrive?"

"Yes, I do believe so. If you all could just wait here for a moment, we will be right back." Albus said to the now complete group before they walked into a building.

A group of passer-byers stopped to stare at the group, but were quickly frightened away by the unfriendly glares and sneers a number of the slaves, meaning Severus, Tom, Lucius and Fenrir, shot them.

All but one.

"Hello!" the child said. The child wore a hat that hid its hair but the slaves could see a black curls poking out from below it. The child had bright green eyes that seemed to glow as he grinned brightly at them. Its body was hidden in large clothes that made it look like a street urchin, and it was impossible to tell whether it was male or female.

"Hello." Remus and Sirius greeted kindly.

"Be gone." Fenrir growled.

"I like you!" the child giggled. "You're grumpy." It said, earning a laugh from the rest of the slaves, except for the aforementioned meanies.

"You there! Shrimp!" a rather unpleasant looking boy named Piers Polkiss was walking over to the child with an unpleasant smirk one his face.

The child's demeanour changed in an instant. "What the fuck did you just call me?" he snarled, turning fiercely on the spot with a gaze that could have made a basilisk doubt its own future.

"You heard me-oof!" the boy grunted in pain as the smaller child's hand shot out like a snake and punched him in the stomach, sending him flying down the street and he hit the wall of a nearby building hard, leaving a small crater as he slumped, with some obviously broken bones and was completely unconscious.

"…" the entire group of slaves, and people on the street just stared at the seemingly delicate child in shock.

"What the heck?" Fenrir muttered.

"I approve completely." Tom nodded, shooting the child a double thumbs up with a sadistic smirk on his face.

"That was cool." Fred and George muttered in unison, their brothers nodding mutely.

"Hey, how'd you do that?" Draco demanded, turning around.

The child winked and grinned, holding a finger up to his lips as it mouthed se-cr-et. "I don't like people calling me small." It shrugged. "I'll see you later!" it called, running off and scaling a nearby building with ease before disappearing from sight.

"I can't do that." Sirius Black pouted, before rubbing his arm where his brother had punched him.

"Strange child." Remus mused.

"Someone took a fist to their head one too many times." Severus deadpanned.

0-0-0

"Honestly, my Prince, you shouldn't run off like that!"

"Leave the boy alone Minerva, let him have his fun."

"Would it be classed as 'fun' if he got robbed, or attacked or worse?!" she squawked indignantly.

"He's been trained by the best and surpassed them. I doubt any robber would even have a chance." The man tried again.

"That is beside the point, Kingsley!" she shot back.

"Then what is the point?" he replied. Harry edged slowly away from the bickering duo, used to it by now, neither of them noticing his hasty retreat.

"Did you enjoy your outing, Harry?" Albus asked, smiling down at his shabby clothes that hid his gender and hat that hid his scar.

"I only wish I could have stayed out all night, Grandpa Albus."

"Then who would be the guest of honour at the party?" scolded Albus lightly.

"Seamus?" he tried.

Albus chuckled. "I do not think Young Master Seamus has the patience for your guests."

"And neither do I!" Harry replied, albeit smiling at the thought of his friend who was known for his dislike of Aristocrats' stiff nature and spoilt brats of children. Harry didn't like most of them much either, but he was the Prince and as such had to be at least tolerant of them for diplomatic purposes.

"Come along, Harry. You need to get ready!" Petunia called, already ushering him to his bathing chambers where he was promptly surrounded by maids and ambushed with sponges.

He hated this part of getting ready.

0-0-0

Petunia, having dealt with his highness, for now at least, lead the slaves that had been brought in to be properly cleaned, groomed and dressed for the party.

Her nose wrinkled as she took in the state of the Alpha werewolf, who was currently glaring at her from under a mass of silver hair, from the smell radiating off him to the dirt coating him.

"Madam Evans, shall we begin?" asked he maid and second-in-command, Jasmine, who would be in charge of the group cleaning the rooms the slaves were being given as well as their personal upkeep.

"I leave them in your capable hands, Jasmine." She replied, inclining her head and stopping in the doorway. "And perhaps a double dose for him." She pointed at the alpha. "…make that triple."

Jasmine nodded, before she and the small army of maids began literally wrestling the clothes off the yelping, struggling and protesting slaves, tackling them into the water and assaulting them with cleaning oils and soaps and sponges from hell.

Jasmine marched around the room, inwardly chuckling when the maids that were washing their hair gushed over Draco and Lucius' platinum blond locks, much to the two slaves' pleasure.

Another gushed over commented on the uniqueness of Tom's scarlet eyes, and Sirius and Regulus' sapphire blue ones.

The Weasley's azure blue eyes, red hair and blond lashes got much attention, as did Blaise's olive complexion and Theo's chocolate brown eyes and blond hair.

Fenrir's tall, strong and muscular body received a lot of looks from the maids as well, but he either didn't notice or care and Remus Lupin just curled into his Alpha's warm body like he hadn't done since he was a cub and had been taken away from him, listening to the familiar rumble and sighing in content.

Tom and Severus were discussing effective terror-inducing expressions, earning eye-rolls from everyone in the room while Fred and George seemed to plotting something in a way that gave everyone in the room a sense of foreboding.

Their older brothers, Bill, Charlie and Cedric just sighed and shook their heads, masking the concern in their eyes for the fate of their twin brothers should someone fall victim to one of their pranks.

Jasmine smiled to herself. They would be good for her Prince. Her kind, sweet, strong and tortured Prince.

0-0-0

Once the painful process was over the slaves breathed a sigh of relief, all too soon, it seemed as even more maids entered the chamber with piles of different coloured silk garments in their arms.

"Well, let's get them dressed." Jasmine clapped her hands twice and all the maids began sorting through the different colours until they found ones that suited every slave in a different colour which would be their colour in wardrobe from now on.

Of course, it bothered some, Severus, more than others, Lucius and Draco.

Once the all the slaves were dressed in different coloured genie-style silk pants, with bare feet and open vests with the Hogwarts seal on the left breast. Around their waists were dark purple sashes that matched the Prince's clothing and on their wrists and ankles were golden bands.

0-0-0

"Harry!" Hermione called as she rushed over to him, arms full of fabric. "I got you these dress robes for the party tonight." She gasped, panting from the run all the way to his rooms and holding them out to him.

Harry was a stunning young man. His hair was raven black and plaited over his shoulder, falling to his thigh, and so dark it looked blue in some light. His skin was a stark contrast, a colour that made snow look grey and he appear dead whenever he slept. His eyes were almond shaped and wide, framed by thick black lashes most girls would kill for and were the same green colour as the killing curse, though he preferred they be compared to emeralds. His lips were red like blood and pouty in a way that made him look delicate and feminine, coupled with his high cheekbones and delicate bone structure.

He was not exceptionally tall, quite the opposite in fact, reaching only 5'5" in height. However, years of training had given him an exceptionally strong body and he was very capable in a physical fight, something he loved to prove. Even if he was a bit… sensitive… about his height.

"You got me a tent!" he grinned, lifting the hem and standing underneath the mass of fabric.

"Just put these on." She glared down at him from her, in his opinion, unfair height of 5'8".

"Yes mother." He grinned, dodging a slap aimed at his head with ease that spoke of years of practice as he moved behind the screen to change into the dark purple robes.

"You know what tonight is?" Hermione teased half-seriously as she passed his shoes over the top of the screen.

"My birthday?" she could practically hear his goofy grin that endeared him to everyone he met.

"It's your fifteenth birthday, Harry. You know what happens." She said softly, and the temperature in room dropped a couple of degrees as his elemental magic responded to his mood.

"Yes. It's the night the council gifts me with a harem of slaves that have been forced here against their will for my 'enjoyment'." He said coldly, looking dangerous and regal in his robes as he stepped out to face her.

"It's okay. You can give them a better life." She soothed, knowing what was bothering her friend, her brother instinctively.

"Thanks, 'Mione." He smiled weakly at her. "Where's Lulu?"

"Luna is coming." She replied, emphasising the girl's name in an attempt to remind him that she had one.

"Alright. I suppose we should go, then?" he held out his elbow to her, and she accepted it just as Luna appeared at his other elbow and did the same. "Onwards, then." He breathed deeply, expelling the air in a whoosh before beginning the long walk down the hall, where they would have to separate

0-0-0

Harry sighed heavily as he made his way to the throne room were the party was to be held. Beside him, on either side and behind him, was his personal guard. His guard was made up of the numerous magical creatures that had gathered together to pledge their loyalty to the throne some years ago when he had been six. They guarded Hogwarts and its occupants, while the best of each race's warriors guarded, most importantly, the Prince.

They consisted of a centaur named Bane, a vampire named Silas, a werewolf named Gabriel, an elf named El'vir, a faerie named Asphodel, a water elemental named Katara, a fire elemental named Zuko, an earth elemental named Toph, an air elemental named Aang **(AN: Don't say anything, damn you!)**, a mage named Sanguis and an assassin warrior named Altair, as well as an alchemist named Alphonse and an alchemic war mage named Edward. **(AN: Again; DON'T SAY ANYTHING! DON'T JUDGE ME! I had no ideas for names… and I could be an octopus! I could be an octopus that's just been attacked by a squid. You don't know my life, don't judge me!)**

"What troubles you, my Prince?" Bane asked.

"How many times have I told you all to call me Harry?" He asked, exasperated.

"Once more than last time, as always." Gabriel piped up from behind, causing the group to laugh softly.

"But truly, what bothers you so?" Silas asked gently.

"Just… dreading the party is all." Harry said after a moment's hesitation.

"Ah." Bane nodded in understanding. He and the other creatures were also dreading the party, especially those who were stationed as guards and had to endure all the curious and hateful looks.

"You know you don't have to attend." Harry reminded kindly. "Moody is more than happy to have his guards stationed at the party."

"Yes, but we don't trust them to keep you safe and alive." Zuko snarked, scowling at the very thought of it.

Harry smiled despite the thinly veiled insult to Moody. He didn't know why they were so loyal to him, or why they had pledged their loyalty when they had such a strong dislike towards most humans. He had asked once or twice, but getting an answer out of a centaur was like trying to break into Gringotts bank. Impossible.

"Here we go." Harry said as they reached two large, golden double doors. As soon as they had opened, all heads turned to stare at him.

"I present the crown Prince, his highness Harry Potter!" called the announcer, tapping his staff twice.

All the occupants knelt, heads bowed to the floor. Harry walked down the carpet until he reached the platform where his throne was. He moved up to the first level and his guards took up their ominous positions around it on all sides as he climbed the last few steps and sat upon the Throne Magorian, as it was known.

Then, and only then, could the guests raise their heads, stand and resume their previous conversations and activities.

0-0-0

Hermione Granger had come from the kingdom of Ravenclaw, after working in the service of that castle from childhood to be employed in Hogwarts, something that had been a huge honour for the 11 year old.

She had been listening to one of the portraits tell a story when a boy had bumped into her, knocking them both to the ground.

They had been best friends ever since.

"Can't you at least pretend to look happy?" she sighed as he came up to stand on the right of the bored looking Prince's throne.

"I tried. It did not work." He deadpanned, head resting in his hand, held up by his elbow on the arm of the throne, taking his eyes off the dancing crowd and grinning when Hermione thumped him on the arm.

"Why can't you dance?" she asked.

"It is against the rules. He has to sit here and observe." Luna spoke from Harry's left, misty eyes shining with a glint of sympathy for the poor boy that was infamous for not being able to sit still for more than a minute.

It had been an hour.

0-0-0

After what seemed like an eternity, though, as Hermione assured him, it had only been another hour and a half, something actually happened! It was a miracle!

He got hit for that comment too.

"Hem hem." Dolores cleared her throat and Harry and his maids both winced at the sound, they never did like it when she did that. "My Prince." She stood before his throne and bowed. "In keeping with the millennia old tradition, the Council and I present you with this coming of age gift, your highness." She snapped her fingers and the two, large, red velvet curtains were pulled back, revealing a room full of presents and a line of men kneeling on with their legs shoulder width apart, hands behind their back, shoulders back and head bowed to their chests respectfully, though one, it seemed, with great reluctance.

"Oh, my." Hermione gasped softly, and even Harry stared in shock as the murmurs started.

He had no idea why the Council insisted on keeping with that infernal tradition his father hadn't had a chance to put into effect; already married when he became king. Not that he had anything to complain about, they were all just… utterly amazing and even though he felt desire there was something else as well, that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Something about their eyes stirred feelings in him that he just didn't understand yet and he strengthened and tightened his occlumency shields to fight off the rush off emotions that weakening them had caused for a moment as he once again mourned being born with his powerful empathetic abilities.

"Do they please you, my Prince?" Dolores enquired.

"Yes. My sincere and numerous thanks to the Council and its members." He replied automatically, just as he had been taught.

0-0-0

The Harem, as they were now called, knelt in a line before the throne, heads bowed so they could not see the Prince, or any of the guests.

After about five uncomfortable minutes of being stared at by the guests, the curtains closed once more and the music resumed, much to their relief as they were led away by Petunia. Albus had requested they only stay for the minimum amount of time, so as not to stress them too much, and also for not wanting the guests to do anything foolish like try and touch the slaves or worse.

The Slaves followed her through the side door they had entered through and up the marble staircase. She led them through doorways hidden by tapestries and sliding panels, climbing more staircases until they came to a sudden halt, causing some of the slaves at the back to stumble.

A bunch of walking sticks were floating towards them and as Petunia took a step towards them they began throwing themselves at her.

"Peeves." She sighed. "The castle poltergeist." She explained to the confused Harem, who nodded in understanding. "Show yourself this instant!"

A rude sound like the air being let out of a balloon was all that came in reply.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop and suddenly a small, sickly looking, transparent man with wickedly glinting eyes appeared, floating cross-legged holding the bundle of walking sticks.

"Ooh!" he cackled. "Ickle Slaves! What fun!"

"Don't think I won't- is that the Prince's prized cane? The one that belonged to his father?!" she demanded angrily, pulling herself up threateningly.

"…maybe." Peeves mumbled sticking out his tongue and holding it up in both hands, obviously intending to break it.

"If you do that the Prince will…will… um… oh. Just give them back!" she finally gave up trying to imagine the Prince punishing someone for an offence, other than an insult to his height, of course.

Peeves stared at her angrily for a moment, before cackling and flying off down the hall, not before dropping the canes on Sirius' head for good measure.

"I honestly don't understand – thank you – why his highness insists on allowing him to stay here." She sighed even as she gratefully accepted the cane from Regulus, who removed it from a pouting Sirius, and passed it to a servant to be taken back to its place. "Says it's as much his home as ours but…"

"He does?" Draco asked, making many of the elder members blanch at the thought of the boy being punished for speaking out of line.

"Of course, come along now!" Petunia ushered them forwards, talking as she walked. "The Prince is very kind, so you had best get used to it, though sometimes he's a bit of an idiot. But in an endearingly irritating way, meaning you get used to it." She explained, smiling fondly while the harem stared at her in shock.

"Did she just call the Prince an idiot?" Remus whispered in shock.

"Uh huh." Bill replied, looking equally as surprised.

"Ah, here we are!" she announced, opening two wooden double doors to show a very large dining and living room. "These are your rooms. Up the stairs are your bedrooms. You needn't worry, for no one, not even the Prince can enter your bedrooms without your permission." She pointed out. "You all have free range of the castle, though we would prefer for you to be escorted for safety reasons, and you will be required to have an escort to go into the village. Now where is- ah!"

A young looking centaur emerged from the shadows. He had white-blond hair and a palomino body.

"This is Firenze. He is your guard and whatever else you may need. I suppose you could call him your den mother…" she mused, the centaur glaring at being called a 'den mother'.

He bowed slightly to the slaves before resuming staring at Petunia.

"Any questions?" she asked. The slaves all blinked, surprised at the fact that the woman had even asked at all. "Oh, and I am Petunia Evans, head maid and I suppose your den mother as well." She added as an afterthought.

There was an awkward silence after that.

"Madam Evans?" all heads turned to look at Jasmine, who had just entered. "Everything is ready now." She smiled.

"Good, good." Petunia said, dismissing the girl before clapping her hands and making food appear on the table. "Sit down and dig in." she invited, motioning for them to do so.

None of them moved, despite having sat stiffly in their seats. Petunia sighed and wondered if she was going to have to force them to eat. These slaves had seemed different than the ones she normally dealt with, but perhaps the spark of life she had seen in their eyes had just been her imagination.

"You have nothing to fear here, I promise you." Firenze told them, tail swishing patiently.

The slaves glanced first at each other and then at the alpha werewolf who snorted and grabbed a chicken leg and began eating, pieces flying everywhere.

Petunia wrinkled her nose at the alpha's disgusting table manners, and wondered if trying to teach him better ones would be worth the hassle it would undoubtedly be.

The slaves watched for a few more moments before they began to pile their plates with a bit of everything.

Petunia and Firenze looked at each other and smiled inconspicuously.

"Ooh! Treacle tart!" she said happily, reaching out to grab one.

"What about it?" Draco asked in confusion, much to the elder slaves' horror. You don't ask questions, especially not like that!

"It's the Prince's favourite." She replied by way of explanation. The slaves gaped openly, both at her answering the question and Draco not being punished in any way, even encouraged to do so. "I would be surprised if there was any left in the kingdom after he's had an opportunity to get at it." She elaborated, mistaking their gapes before going back to happily munching it.

"I thought his favourite was chocolate cheesecake." Firenze asked more than stated.

"Apparently 'it is on every day ending in day'." She quoted, rolling her eyes and snorting delicately in humour at the Prince's answer.

"That's our Prince."

"Mhmm. Just whatever you do," she started, looking at each of the slaves significantly, "for the love of Merlin and Morgana don't call him short."


End file.
